No One Else
by something-magical
Summary: Dean and Sam go on an unusual and amusing hunt in the snow and Dean warms Sam up. Oh, and they interview some male strippers :) Happy, feel-good smut and fluff. WINCEST. Warnings inside. Rated M for extreme SLASH.


**warnings**: bottom!sam, fingering, cuteness, and male strippers :)

disclaimer: Sadly, Dean and Sam are not mine. I just borrow them occasionally. I get nothing but smut out of it.

"Shit, it's cold out here!" Dean huffed as he and Sam walked out of their motel room to a parking lot blanketed with undisturbed snow.

"Well, what do you expect? It's Montana in the middle of winter, dumbass." Sam said, pulling on his beanie.

"Yeah, whatever Sasquatch. It's still fucking cold. Why do we have to do the interviews today?"

"Because tomorrow is supposedly when the spirit is gonna hit and we have to find the remains and burn 'em before anyone else gets killed."

The only remotely interesting thing that Absarokee, Montana holds is their old ghost story of Old Ruth Jenkins, a widowed 70 year old who supposedly died when of her many cats went berserk and clawed her to death. Now the plot of land where her house had been was sold to a late night male strip club and people have been turning up with major face reconstruction and very dead. The police were passing it off as wild bobcat or mountain lion attacks. Now they were headed over to the club to interview some of the, uh, dancers.

"Well, I'm not lookin' forward to talking to a bunch of half naked strippers about a bunch of bizarre killings," Dean complained as they piled into to the Impala.

"You wouldn't have a problem if they were female strippers," Sam shot back accusingly.

"Of course I would. Then they'd be all over you and I don't trust male strippers any more."

"Aww afraid someone's gonna steal me away from you?" Sam leaned over and gave Dean a small kiss.

"Shaddup." Dean started the engine and pulled out of their parking spot. "And watch the chick flick moments."

The drive to the club took less than ten minutes and they went in the back door after flashing their I.D.'s at the security guard outside. The walked into the unsurprisingly warm and musky smelling backstage.

"Ugh it smells like man junk in here." Dean wrinkled his nose as he looked around. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well suck it up, Agent Reynolds. Faster we get to interviews, the faster we get out of here."

"Hello, Agents," a new British accented voice said behind them. They turned and came face to face with one of the dancers clad in only a speedo and a bow tie. "Are you here about the killings?"

"Um, yes, we are. Have you noticed anything suspicious...?"

"Jasper. My name is Jasper." The man smiled at Sam, obviously turning the charm up. Dean stepped up next to Sam and growled slightly.

"Well what kind of suspicious?" Dean asked. Jasper cleared his throat and wisely looked away from Sam and set his gaze on Dean.

"We heard a woman's voice outside as me and some of my buddies took a break and then went back inside and heard something like...scratching on the door. I know it sounds stupid like that old ghost story but I don't think it could just be regular attacks." Jasper ran a hand through his short brown hair and put a hand on his hip. "That's all I've heard. Do what you will with that then."

"Yes. Thank you for your time, then." Sam flashed a smile and Jasper shot a last approving look at Sam and walked away. He turned to Dean and said," Sure sounds like our cat lady. We should go and find her bones and get this done with." It didn't take long for Sam to find her record and the quickly drove to Good Shepherd's Cemetery and found her grave.

"Great, nothing beats shoveling through snow _and _dirt on a Friday night," Dean complained.

"Well, I can't argue with that." They got to her remains and burned them as the old lady was about to get her hands around Dean's neck and she went up in flames.

"That was freaky and close," Sam said.

"Yeah, and you weren't the one about to be strangled by an old cat lady," Dean said, sitting on the snow, trying to catch his breath. And then things got even freakier. Out of the trees came _motherfucking ghost cats. _And they went right after Sam.

"What the flying fuck?!" Sam yelled as he ran around the headstones pursued by the very angry spirit felines. Dean dived back towards the grave , shoveling at the dirt besides the burned remains. He quickly found a battered old wooden box and opened it to find clumps of cat hair of different colors.

"Sonofabitch!" Dean fumbled with the lighter and lit one clump and dropped it in with the others. He popped his head back out of the hole to watch the cats burst into flames and disappear one at a time. He couldn't help laughing at his brother's panicked trot through the snow. Sam made his way back over to Dean after all of the cats had disappeared.

Sam looked at Dean after he collapsed onto the ground. "_Ghost cats_" he panted. "_Fucking ghost cats."_ Dean laughed at that. "Shut up, it was terrifying." Dean just laughed harder and Sam joined in with him." Okay let's just get back to the motel."

"Yeah, alright." They made the trip back to the motel and Sam was trying to warm his hands up the whole way. They quickly got out of the Impala and hurried into their room.

"What the hell, I got here from the car in, like, ten seconds. My hands are freezing again!" Sam said annoyed.

"Ha, c'mere then." Dean offered out his hands and took Sam's into his and rubbed them.

"Why aren't you getting frostbite?" Sam asked, enjoying the strange warmth of his brother's hands.

"That's cuz I'm hot." Dean smirked. Sam retracted one of his hands and smack the side of Dean's head and walked to his duffel and changed into a long-sleeved t-shirt and flannel sleep pants.. "Well I've got another idea how to warm you up," Dean said suggestively, coming up behind Sam and wrapping his arms around his waist. Dean nuzzled into Sam's hair.

"Is that right?" Sam ground his ass back against Dean's erection.

"Damn straight. You up for it?"

"Does it feel like I'm not?" Sam brought Dean's hand down to press against his hardening length. He moaned and ground into Dean's hand.

Dean pushed Sam down onto their bed and crawled on top of him and started kissing and nipping Sam's neck, his hand never leaving Sam's crotch. Sam mewled and tugged on Dean's FBI jacket.

"C'mon." Sam pulled Dean's jacket off and grappled with his tie. He grunted in frustration.

"Okay, how about we both take care of our own clothes?" Sam nodded and pulled off his long sleeve, sleep pants, and boxer briefs in record time. He lied back, legs spread with his eyes on Dean as he slowly shrugged out of his clothes. Sam pouted and Dean sped up a bit. Dean then climbed back on top of Sam, settling between his thighs and returning his attention to Sam's neck.

"Freakin' stripper, trying to pick up my Sammy," Dean growled possessively against Sam's skin. "Not to mention the ghost cats."

Sam laughed which turned into a moan as Dean ground down. "He had nothing on you." He pulled Dean's head up to look at him and said, "You know that. Know I love you."

"Damn straight, you do." Sam pouted again and Dean smiled and kissed his protruding lip. "Love you too," he said returning to his previous activities. Dean reached to the side table and groped for the bottle of lube. Sam was panting by that point, his cock hard and leaking precome against his belly. Dean sat back, bottle of lube in hand and enjoyed the view.

Dean pushed Sam's legs back, revealing the little pucker. "Hold your legs back." Sam was too aroused to refuse and grabbed behind his knees. Dean squirted some lube onto his fingers and circled Sam's entrance. Sam moaned and pulled his legs back further.

Dean then gently pushed a finger inside and circled it around, stretching Sam. He brushed his finger against Sam's prostate and smiled when Sam's hips jerked and he cried out. He slipped a second finger in with little resistance and started thrusting them in and out. Sam groaned and pushed his hips back against Dean's fingers. Dean put his hand on Sam's hips to still him and Sam whimpered. Dean could _hear _the pout in the small sound.

"Hold on, I got ya, Sammy."

"C'mon, please, hurry up."

Dean shushed Sam and pushed a third finger in, thrusting them a few times until he gave up as well. He squirted some more lube onto his palm and coated his cock. He teased Sam's hole with the head of his cock and pushed in and inch. They both groaned. Sam rocked his hips down and took a bit more of Dean into him. Dean pushed the rest of the way in in one long thrust.

"Fuck, Dean," Sam moaned while he circled his hips, reacquainting himself with the feel of his brother inside him.

"Feel good, baby boy." Dean gave a small thrust that had them both groaning. Dean pulled Sam's legs down and hooked his arms beneath his knees, holding Sam open. Sam used his newly free arms to pull Dean down and crash their lips together. Dean started little thrusts and Sam moaned against his lips.

Dean changed his angle and prodded Sam's prostate and Sam threw his head back against the pillows, his arms slipping from Dean's neck. Dean found one of Sam's hands and twined their fingers together.

"De, need it harder." Dean gladly obliged, pulling out longer and thrusting back in sharply.

"Mine," Dean said huskily as he attacked Sam's throat and chest.

"Yours, always," Sam moaned.

"And don't you forget that." Dean leaned down again to capture Sam's mouth again. Sam pushed his hips against Dean, moving with him.

"Shit, De, I'm close," Sam groaned.

"Me too, baby," Dean said, quickening his pace. Sam wriggled his free hand between them and curled his fingers around himself, stroking his cock.

"Shit, De, gonna-gonna come."

"Yeah, c'mon Sammy, come for me." And Sam came as Dean hit his prostrate as he dragged his thumb along the ridge of the head of his cock. he cried out, "Dean!' and tightened around Dean as he came, thick ropes of come splattering up his belly and chest. Dean dropped one of Sam's legs to stroke him through his orgasm when Sam's hand fell away. Dean thrust few more times into Sam's tight heat and he was coming with a shout, filling up Sam with his seed.

He fell against Sam's limp body and panted, trying to catch his breath. He felt Sam's chest heaving under his and sat up and pulled out gently and collapsed to the side. After a few minutes, he had regained enough brain functionality to get up and get a washcloth. He came back to the bed and wiped Sam down and then himself. He threw the used cloth in the general direction of the bathroom and fell back into bed and pulled Sam back into his chest, spooning him.

Sam made a happy sound and snuggled back against Dean and Dean buried his nose into Sam's soft hair.

He thought Sam was asleep and was almost asleep himself when he heard Sam.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you'd make a pretty good stripper."

Dean laughed into his hair and said," Love you, Sammy."

"Love you, too."

Dean smiled and fell asleep, content, arms wrapped around Sam.


End file.
